


Caught

by nic73



Category: The Mentalist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic73/pseuds/nic73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is so much romance (and angst) around these days (understandably) even in my own stories. I'm hoping that there are some readers, like me, who are in need of satisfying their dark side. So here is the beginning of a dark piece.</p><p>Story is now complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The hot August sun barely makes it's presence known under the thick foliage of the forest. It's late evening and there's a refreshing coolness found under its cover. There's a lonely figure taking advantage of this drop in temperature, as the load he's carrying would be too burdensome in temperatures being endured in the unshaded areas. He's left his car a couple of miles back at the edge of the forest, in a deserted area. It was as well he wasn't driving any further, as the smell emanating from the trunk when he opened it, indicated that his cargo was getting cooked in the stifling temperature within. He stops and drops the dead weight on the ground and slumps down against a tree. He takes a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. As he lights it up the thought comes to him that if he didn't smoke these things he would be in better shape and able to make his trek without stopping. He dismisses it as quickly as it came and inhales deeply and a smile of satisfaction dances on his lips from the thrill of the nicotine and the sight of his load laying at his feet. As he usually does at the important times of his life, he opens a conversation with his dead wife.

"Angie. The time has come. Everything's finally in place. I'm I ready you ask? Yes I'm ready, I never been more ready for anything in my life. This moment has filled my dreams. The thought of this moment has propelled my feet, kept them moving one in front of another. It has helped me to battle through the blackness that is with me every morning I wake up without you next to me. How I would love to lie down and join you, to have your perfume fill my senses, to feel your kiss once more on my lips. The first time I kissed you, I thought it could never get better than this, but each kiss was better, as each time I fell more and more in love with you. I never felt like I deserved you and I always expected you to come to your senses and leave me but to be taken from me and cruelly broken and tossed aside as unwanted trash, is unforgivable and a price must be paid. You were too lovely to stay in this world, but I needed you, this black, dirty world needed you. Ha! Hear that Angie, I'm paying back the whole world."

He stands up wanting to be on his way towards his destination, bringing his dream closer. His cigarette is half smoked, he throws it down and it lands on his load, he studies it for a moment and smiles as he steps on it and crushes it until the flame goes out. He brushes it off and lifts up his load and continues on his way. He notices it feels lighter and silently thanks Angie for her help.

The final two miles are easier than the first. He drops his load again and searches his pockets for the key. He struggles to open the door as the strain and excitement causes his hands to tremble. Finally it's open and he switches on the light. He drags his load over the step and into the middle of the room. He attaches a foot long chain, soldered to a metal plate heavily screwed in the floor. It proves difficult as the cuff is a fraction too small, a thrill runs through him as he hears a cracking sound. He heads to the fridge, taking out a case of beer. He walks over and looks down at his 'load' come captive. Rage and delight courses through him in equal measure and he hurls a swift kick.

"Piece of garbage!"

He smiles at the blood dripping from his victims nose. He checks the restraints on his wrists and ankles, and satisfies himself they're capable of holding against any escape attempt. There's no need for a gag, there's no one to hear him yell, or scream for that matter. He pulls out a bottle and sitting down he takes off the lid, Having a long refreshing swallow, he gets himself comfortable and enjoys the satisfying results of his days work.

After two beers and a check of his watch he knows he needs to leave, before his captive wakes up, he wants him to spend a couple of days alone, he has a camera set up so he can enjoy the desperation growing as the man wonders if he's been left to die.

He stands up and picks up some scissors lying on top of the fridge and cuts away the man's clothing, clean up will be easier this way. He puts the scissors back and satisfies himself with one more delicious kick.

"Don't you worry Mr. Jane, I'll be back and then you'll really wish I'd left you to die."

He lets the door bang closed behind him and locks the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Exactly how many sensations and how much information the human mind can recognise in a single second, Patrick Jane's probably able to tell you and his quick mind can compute more than most, when it's clear and sharp, but, when it's dulled by a heavy dose of drugs there's only one that pierces through the fog and that's pain. He squeezes he eyes tight against it but it penetrates and assaults his nerve endings. He wills himself to return to the mindless state he's just beginning to awaken from and, for now, he's successful.

His watcher sees the agony cross his face, before his muscles relax and he's back to sleep. He laughs out loud.

"Hide Patrick Jane, your relief is only for a small moment, the drugs won't help you soon."

Jane hears a noise this time, as consciousness gains a greater hold on him, it sounds as if someone's in trouble, in that split moment he realises that it was him, as the pain makes its presence known fiercely this time. His barely conscious thought is that maybe moving will help as he's feeling uncomfortable, his eyes pop open when he can't move his arms.

Pain in his head hits him like a thundering train and he closes his eyes against it and groans. He head feels like it might explode and he suddenly realises he's going to be sick, he tries to move but it's impossible to do it quickly and he only has time to move his head to the side before his stomach releases its contents. It feels like all his strength left with it and he turns his head back and weakly moves it, as much as he can, away from the disgusting smell.

For his watcher it's more than he dared hope for.

"Defaced your living space already Mr. Jane."

It hasn't made his head feel any better, and now he's in need of a drink to clear his mouth. There's something on his face, it's dry and sticky. When he attempts to use his hands to help he's reminded that they're immobile. This time he opens his eyes more slowly. Thick darkness surrounds him, he can't even see his recent work, though there's no doubting it's still there. He knows he's not where he expected to be. He's beginning to work past his headache by concentrating on his hands and arms. They're restrained behind his back but they're not clasped together. He twists his hands downwards and until they grab something. It feels like a steel bar. Whoever has him (it's obvious to him now that he's held captive) they've thought things through. With his hands separated, there's no chance of him picking any locks. Not good news for him. His feet are also held apart so he suspects another bar. He finally makes another startling discovery, he's naked. He attempts to twist his body to sit up and get a better look but pain shoots like a knife through his chest, his ribs hurt. He's unable to stop himself banging his head on the floor as he reacts to the pain. He's exhausted now and oblivion claims him once more.

His Watcher's very satisfied, he leaves to get a bottle out of the fridge.

When Jane awakens the third time, the drug is completely out of his system, taking with it the pounding headache, now Jane's more aware of the pain in his face and his ribs when he moves. A stench assaults his nose and recollections of throwing up vaguely stir in a foggy memory. He opens his eyes slowly and he realises it must be morning. Narrow streaks of light illuminate his prison, it's dimly lit, but he can now make out objects around him. The ceiling above him tells him instantly that he's in a cabin as logs of wood stare down at him. He rotates his head to the side and finds there's not much to see. There's a fridge, a sink and a counter in the corner, underneath a boarded up window. To the right of him is a wooden straight back chair and almost level with his eye line is the culprit of the obnoxious smell, insects are crawling over it and Jane has to close his eyes and swallow hard to fight against the gag reflex overwhelming him. He turns his head to the left to find only a table under another boarded window and a foot away from the window, a heavy metal door. Not much to play with. He looks back at the roof and tries to think but the smell invades his senses. He needs to move further away. He studies his options, with the way he's situated the easiest way would have him turning into the offending substance. He's going to have to turn himself the other way. He's already partly on his back, so it's not hard to finish rolling all the way and is soon laying as flat on his back as he can manage with his arms underneath him. He studies his options once more and decides the quickest way will be to pull himself to a sitting position from where he is now. He just hope his stomach muscles are up to it.

As he lifts his head,and strains to rise the rest of his body, a pain shoots through his chest and he collapses to the floor. He closes his eyes against the pain and takes deep breaths through his mouth. His ribs must be damaged. Once the pain's subsided he looks at his options again, the only thing he can do is shuffle his way across the floor. He discarded that option earlier as the floor's made of rough wooden planks, not ideal for scraping a bare body across. He bends his knees and is surprised when he feels a pull. He attempts to move his feet closer to him but they won't budge, the clanking sound tells him he's attached to a chain. He wonders how long it is. He twist as far as he can until he can't bear the pain and can just see an iron ring, he flops back and despair rushes over him. Not very far, whoever has him means business. The chains, the bars, the lack of clothes and the pain, tell him that whoever has him means him harm. He's under no illusion that he's not meant to leave this place alive. Without realising he turns his head and sees the insects crawling all over his mess. He turns quickly away, adrenalin takes over, and using his arms, feet and instinct, he lifts his body and moves to the left, he screams with pain, anger and despair, as he bounces himself as far away as he can.

The watcher howls with laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

The watcher places his lunch dishes in the sink and then takes one last look at his hapless victim. More than two days without food and water have taken their toll on his captive, he now lies in a heap, his movements lethargic and pitiful, as he tries to escape the human waste that invades the small living space the watcher's allowed him. Anticipation rises in him as he switches off the screen.

"It's been very entertaining watching you Mr. Jane, you've been a great sport. You have a lot of Spirit and determination. You will soon see exactly who it is that's done this to you and then the fun will truly begin."

He locks the door behind him, climbs into his car, and heads back to the forest.

Jane's having trouble keeping his hold on reality, and is beginning to question his determination to do so. Where ever his mind wants to take him must surely be better than the horror of his reality. Before dehydration and hunger got the better of him, he tried to find a way to escape his prison. His shackles proving too strong to escape from, he determined his only hope was the chain. It proved impossible to reach anything that he could lever himself against to pull against the chain and hopefully break it. It left only one other option open to him, and after pain numbing hours, he managed to maneuver himself so that one hand was over a screw holding the ring to the floor. But without something to use as a tool, moving it, even a fraction, proved impossible. His fingers tips are shredded and bleeding.

He knows he's in trouble, he's showing signs of severe dehydration. He doesn't want to die, but death has never held any fear for him. But he doesn't want to die here, like this. He's thought a lot these long days, to distract him from this nightmare and the pain. He's thought about his life, in which he has many regrets. The big one he put right as much as he could when he killed Red John. He thought about his life at the CBI. He realises the blessing that became in his life. It wasn't just a means to an end, but became his life line, it helped to rebuild him into a functioning human being. And brought Teresa into his life. Sometimes it proved too painful to think about her, imagining what she must be going through with him missing, but it was her face the kept him trying to turn the stupid screw.

'If this turns out badly Teresa I hope you understand how much I love you and how wonderful loving you has been these last few months. Your love brightens my life like a beautiful summer's day. Your beautiful, face, those stunning eyes that look at me filled will love, sustain me even now.'

As he feels the tendrils of exhaustion tighten its grip on him and his eyes begin to close, he wonders if he will have the strength to open them again.

"Arghh"

Pebbles are raining down on his body, his mind's in confusion, where? How?. The stinging on his skin is dragging his mind from its unconsciousness. He's cold, very cold, shivers and pain and noise. What is that noise? A loud, screeching, bird?

The pebbles are relentless, moving their way up and down his body…but it's not pebbles it's wet. There's relief, it's stopped, Pain on his face, it's being squeezed, it forces his mouth open, coolness,.wet..water, He swallows, it hurts, his body's forgotten how, his mouth fills, it spill down his chin, his cheeks, the pressure on his jaw increases, he instinctively gulps, but there's too much water, his throat constricts and he coughs, he tries to move his head away, to close his mouth, but it's impossible, he swallows, he coughs, the water spills, the pressure's released, his turns his head, coughs and as the last remaining water dribbles out, he catches it with his tongue

There's a voice close to his ear.

"Open your eyes Mr. Jane, you're not going to die yet."

He's here, he's finally here! He opens his eyes and turns his head towards the voice, but he's gone and the stinging pain returns.

"You made such a mess while I was gone Mr. Jane, I need to clean up a bit before we get better acquainted."

Jane now understands, the water's coming from a pressure washer, there's nothing he can do to escape it, as it switches between him and the floor around him. He can only lie there, shivering, waiting for it to end. He takes looks at the man when he's in his eye line, he seems tall, probably around six feet, he's heavily built, muscular from work, rather than the gym, it's an honest looking tan he sports, not from a bottle or lying around a pool.

"Almost finished Mr. Jane."

A boot on his back forces him to lie on his stomach, the water continues to pound on him. He closes his eyes against indignities and then it's over. He doesn't have the strength to turn himself back over, he lies there, the shivering increasing as his body's left to the cool air. He watches as the man stands by the open door and wraps the hose around his arm, he steps outside for just a moment and then is back, heading towards him. He steps over him and Jane turns his head to follow, he picks up the chair and places it near his feet. The man crouches beside him, and putting his hands underneath him turns him over on to his back, he straddles him and shoves his hands under his arms lifting him up. He drops him on the chair, making sure his arms go over the back. He puts him in position and moves around him. Jane tries to follow but loses sight. He hears a click as he's moving his head to the other side, but he's still out of sight. He hears a ripping sound, he recognizes and is not surprised when the man begins to wrap duck-tape across his arms, chest and back, pinning him to the chair. Jane's shivering is getting worse as it's fuelled by the fear of his helplessness at the hands of this man, he has one thought, as the duck-tape's wrapped around his ankles:

'Don't tape my mouth. Leave me something I can defend myself with.'

Relief floods Jane as the man returns to, what Jane surmises is a metal box of some kind, behind him. The man appears in front of him, he opens up a camping chair and sits his large frame upon it and Jane finally meets his captor eye to eye.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes considerable effort for Jane to hold his head erect. His body is severely weakened from his lack of nourishment and the water forced down his throat was an insufficient amount to be of any worth. But he's determined not to be bowed at their first meeting. He wants to know who his abuser is and get a take on what he's up against. His face aches and his throat hurts but he looks the brute squarely in the eye.

"Hi."

The mouth in front of him breaks in to a smile revealing two rows of yellow and brown uneven teeth.

"I've waited a long time for this. You don't know what a pleasure it is to finally have you here at my mercy."

Jane peers closely at him, taking note of the deranged look in his eyes with a sinking heart, but the face isn't familiar to him.

"Do I know you?"

"Not really Mr. Jane, but our paths have crossed."

Jane blinks to clear his vision, as it's becoming blurry and studies him some more. They're maybe something about him that stirs in his memory palace. Jane know it's important for him to figure out where and how their paths have crossed.

"I'm sorry I can't quite remember where."

His captor stands and lays a hand on his shoulder.

"No need to worry about that just yet. I want to perform a demonstration for you and then you need to eat – get your strength up. It'll be more fun that way."

Jane has an ominous, sickening feeling in his stomach, at his words. As the man moves behind him, he tries to see, but he's soon in his blind spot. The noise tells him, he's in the metal container again. He hears footsteps and the man's standing directly behind him. All in a fraction of a second, Jane feels something cold on his shoulder, followed by a click and then a tremendous burst of pain that has him crying out. His captor bursts into a laughter and as Jane struggles with the pain, he moves into view and Jane feels sick as he looks at the nail gun dangling from his hand.

"That was delightful Mr. Jane. Now for something to eat."

His captor places the nail gun on his chair, and goes into the kitchen, leaving Jane to stare at it.

Jane's shoulder feels like it's on fire. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to run, to get away. Adrenalin's coursing through his body, increasing his agony. He shakes his head against it, arches his back trying to break the tape. Soon the futility of it saps Jane of the little strength he has. He slumps in the chair, exhaustion taking its hold. He realizes that he needs rest and takes deep calming breaths, concentrating on the task to take his mind away from the pain. His body relaxes taking some of the agony with it. His head's bowed and his eyes close.

He's aware of movement and knows that his tormentor is back. He opens his eyes and raises his head to find him sat back on the chair looking at him. In his hand is bowl of soup, Jane can see a sandwich on the floor next to his feet. Jane balks at the idea of being fed by this man, but knows, that he needs to function better if he's to outwit him and to withstand the torture until that's accomplished.

His captor smiles gleefully at Jane. Dips the spoon in the soup and hold it towards him.

"Open wide Mr. Jane."

His captor returns after taking the empty bowl and plate away with a jug and glass of ice water. He holds the glass against Jane's lips and Jane drinks as much as he can. He's feeling sick eating so much food after days of hunger, but his captor forced it down, when he refused.

"Please, no more."

His captor studies him for a moment then/ nods his head.

"Okay Mr. Jane, that will do."

He pours the jug of water over Jane's head.

"Just cleaning up the dribble and crumbs."

Jane's gasping as the icy water takes his breath away. Jane can hear the man moving around as he sits shivering, his teeth literally chattering. Then he's before him picking up the nail gun that he placed on the floor when he sat down.

"Time for a little more fun and then we'll talk. You seem oblivious to why you're here and I can't have you suffering without fully understanding why."

Jane's ashamed of the tears he can't stop falling, as the nails drive into his shoulders. Frustration, and anger battle for centre stage as he's helpless to do anything to stop what's happening. His chest is heaving under the duck tape, the sweat pouring into his eyes, stings as it mixes with his tears.

"Stop!"

He yells, his voice tearing his throat. A voice is by his left ear.

"Be patient Mr. Jane, soon."

Jane's fingers are uselessly searching for the man, trying to grab him but he keeps himself well back.

"Last one Mr. Jane."

Jane screams as the nail gun's shot three times, rapidly in to the same area. Then he loses his lunch.

It's the third day since Jane went missing. The urgency of the first few hours has been replaced by desperate worry. There's been no word from his captor and no clues to follow. Other agents were pulled on to the case, going through his case files, and his personal files, trying to find something that will help. The list of possibilities is long and tracking them down takes time and three days is a long time already. Abbott places a hand on Lisbon's shoulder. She reluctantly tears her eyes away from the notes in front of her, as she's trying to find something that will help get Jane back.

"Come to my office."

"Sir I need to look through these."

"Teresa, I know you're on your fourth time through. Just leave it for a few minutes, the break might help you see things more clearly. I need to talk with you."

Lisbon reluctantly admits that Abbott could be right and pushes her chair away from the table and follows Abbott to his office. Her feet feel as if they're made of lead, she knows her heart is. The pain now, numbing and heavy in her heart. Every minute she's finding it harder to believe that she will get Jane back alive. In her bones she knows something terrible is happening to him, and that nothing she's doing is stopping it.

Abbott appraise's her as she sits down, she knows she looks a mess. She's barely slept or eaten since Jane went missing, her eyes ringed with dark shadows. When was it they'd forced her to shower and change? Maybe yesterday, maybe before then?

"Teresa, can you relate to me the contents of that forensic report you were reading."

She looks at him with a start, it wasn't what she was expecting. Her mind races over the page she's started reading four times but nothing comes to mind. She has no idea what it says. Abbott smiles gently at her.

"That's what I thought. I understand that you want to be doing something to find Jane, but right now you're no good to me and certainly no good to him. I want you to go home, do whatever you need to do so you will be useful to me. We're going to make a public announcement about his disappearance, with a plea for any information."

Abbott halts her impending interruption.

"The investigation's stalled, yes, we have potentials but, I'm not willing to bet Jane's life on them. It's been three days, we need to find him."

She slumps in her chair and nods her head.

"Go home, once this goes live, I expect there will be lots of interest, most of the phone calls will be from nut jobs. You know Jane the best, you know his history, I need you to tell me which one is the real deal. You can't do that in your state."

She rises from her chair.

"Yes boss."

Jane blinks to clear his vision, His captor is back on his chair. He's moved it a little bit further away from him so that his feet are not in Jane's lunch. After he'd thrown up, his captor had laughed and gotten right into his face, Jane saw his hand come up and braced himself for more violence, but he'd gently wiped dribble off Jane's chin with his finger, he'd looked at it and then at Jane, and at that moment Jane understood, this man's deranged, he's unhinged, he's insane… and he also remembered where he's seen him before.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane blinks away the sweat that's dripping in to his eyes despite his shivering. It stings and he closes them tight trying to clear them. The effort it's taking to fight against the pain in his shoulders, they feel like they're on fire, is causing the sweat and he would love to give in to it, but he doesn't want to add to the pleasure his captor is already deriving from his situation. He opens his eyes to see him sat on his chair staring at him with the same stupid smirk on his face. He's come to hate that smirk. Somehow he manages to make himself talk evenly.

"I know where we met, I just don't understand why you're doing this to me. We didn't talk to one another. I don't even know your name."

Jane barely has time to register it's coming before the burly fist hits him in the face, knocking his head violently back. He's literally seeing stars flashing before his eyes as his head absorbs the power. It takes a full minute before he's able to concentrate on the man before him once more.

"You know exactly who I am. You're a liar! We may not have spoken, but you know who I am. I am the husband of the woman you murdered."

There's not a lot that can shock Jane but this does and without thinking he replies:

"I've never killed a woman in my life."

This time the momentum of the punch knocks his chair over, as it's lifted back up his head is swimming, he can feel blood pouring from his nose. He's aware of the man sitting back down and he manages to open his eyes, there's that smirk once more. The blood is running over his lips, on to his chin and he feels it drop on to his chest. He lifts his head back to try and stem the bleeding. His face hurts, he suspects the second punch also damaged a cheek bone. He's aware of movement and he stomach tightens as he braces himself for more, but it doesn't come and he relaxes when he recognizes the sound of the fridge door opening and closing. It's followed by the sound of a bottle lid hitting the floor, not the first time he's heard it today. The beer may gain him some breathing space but in the long run, he suspects that it's not good news for him. As he hears his captor settle back down in his chair, he sets himself the task of freeing his mind of every pain and discomfort that's assaulting his body and maybe he can figure out why this brute thinks he killed his wife.

He concentrates on his pain, holding it before him, as though it's a sheet taken off his bed. He takes it by the corners and folds one corner to the other, holding part of it with his teeth to keep control, so the fold is neat and accurate. His pain is now half the size. He breathes in slowly, he ignores the gurgling of his blood as some air passes through his nose. As he breathes out, he folds the sheet again, he feels a slight relaxing in his body as his pain's cut in half again. Another deep breath and another fold and he can put it away into a case and throw the case under his trailer. He dusts his hands off and strolls off in the direction of his past that he hoped never to visit again.

He hesitates as he stands before the door, he knows there's no choice and there's no time. His reaches out a trembling hand and turns the knob. A blinding brightness and a soul crushing darkness fight for supremacy in this room. He stands against the wall, staying out of the fray, looking at the images swirling around. Images of Angela, Charlotte, walking and talking while their bodies bear the attacks of Red John's knife. They turns towards him and each points a finger, a look of betrayal on their faces. He looks away quickly towards a man screaming, crying and throwing himself against a padded wall. He knows the man will exhaust himself into an unresponsive stupor. He sees the hated painted face, drawn by his own hand, his own blood.

There is his Saviour, the gentle hand, the firm voice telling him to that it's his choice, he can live again, he can feel again, he can rise above his tragedy. She will help him, guide him along the path, under her guidance he can step out of the padded room. At first he doesn't want to know, he doesn't want to try. He's doesn't deserve it. She comes day after day, touching him, helping him to learn that not everyone hates him, only himself. Helping him find a reason to try, and he does, but he never shares it with her. He starts to eat, to clean himself, to interact.

There's something beyond the padded room, he blinks as he sees other faces, other colours. And there he is, sitting in the chair, as he always was, every morning. Looking out the window, never talking to anyone, never catching anyone's eye.

A burst of pain and a scream dissolves his memory palace, he lurches forward, panting, trying to gain control, he looks at the source of his new pain and finds a nail embedded in his thigh. He looks at his captor, who's leaning forward in his chair, with the nail gun poised for more action, in his hand.

"Do I have your attention Mr. Jane, or do I need to do it again, it'll be my pleasure."

Jane's shaking his head vigorously.

"No, no, you have my attention."

It's taking a mighty effort from Jane to keep his eyes open, looking at his captor, he wants to close his eyes against the pain. It's strange how that helps. He needs to open a dialogue or he's not going to make it out of here.

"What's your name? Arrggghhhh."

Jane's gasping as his captor stands up and grabs him by the hair, pulling his head back, he feels the metal of the gun against his thigh.

"That's the wrong question Mr. Jane, this is not about me. Think carefully you've learnt the price you will pay."

"What…what…was your wife's name?"

His captor smiles.

"That's better Mr. Jane."

He gives a hard tug of Jane's hair before releasing his hold and sitting back down. He leaves the gun in place on Jane's thigh.

"Her name was Angela."

"How did she die? Aaaarrggghhh."

His captor is standing over him once more, Jane's staring at the nails in his thighs, gasping and fighting back tears.

"Look at me Mr. Jane."

Jane raises his head, leaning it back to look at him.

"You know very well how she died. You cut her open, watched her bleed to death and then painted her blood on the wall."

For the second time Jane's shocked but he barely has time to register it as the nail gun's smashed into his face and he's blessed with the peace of oblivion.


	6. Chapter 6

Jane regained consciousness to the feel of something rubbing hard against his face, he tried to move away but an arm tightened around his throat and voice spoke in his ear.

"Just be still, I'm cleaning you up."

Jane then had to endure the indignities of being washed and fed. His body still stings from the force of the power washer. Afterwards his captor sat down with food and more beer. As he began to fall asleep, he left the house and in a few moments was back with a cot bed which he unfolded and is now snoring away on. Music to Jane's ears.

Then pain is at a more manageable level, he remembers his wife being asked to measure her pain from a scale of one to ten when she first entered the hospital in labour. He would rate his pain at an eight. He knows his captor has plans to up that and doesn't like the new items he's placed on the floor beside his chair to taunt him.

He looks across at his captor through the one eye he has available to him. The right side of his face he prefers not to move, the area under his eye swollen enough to make looking out of it impossible. He wonders what happened? How the man got to the point where he thinks that he's responsible for his wife's death. Not just a murderer, but Red John. And he said his wife's name's Angela, surely that isn't a co-incidence. He has to form a plan to calm the man down, to stop him from hurting him, to give himself, not only some respite, but the opportunity, if not to build a rapport, to at least find some answers, and maybe formulate a plan. He thinks back on their past conversation and realizes that he needs to choose carefully the questions he asks and he knows where to start. That done he turns his attention to resting, to gather his strength for whatever's coming.

He closes his eye and allows himself to think of Teresa. He pictures her face, her flawless skin and captivating eyes. Her eyes, when they flash with anger when he irritates her, or when they sparkle as they banter with one another, one of his favourite past times. How he loves that face. All the time he wasted denying his feelings for her. If he gets out of here, he's not wasting any more time, he going to ask her to marry him. He's more or less certain she'll say yes. He laughs to himself, who can resist a man looking like this. He hopes she's doing okay. He knows she'll be working tirelessly to find him, Abbott needs to make her rest. He just needs to hang on, she'll come.

He imagines her fingers caressing across his skin, the magic of her touch taking his pain away. Her soft lips kissing tenderly each of his wounds, he can feel the heat of her breath warming him up. Her hair tickling his neck. She makes her way in front of him and takes his face gently in her hands. He can see the pain in her face as she's cataloging his injuries. She brushes her fingers across the swellings under his eye and his nose, being careful not to touch. She leans in and kisses his eyes, making her way gently down his nose, her lips barely making contact until they reach his lips where she gives him all the comfort and courage he needs.

Lisbon's engrossed in looking through the reports of the phone calls catalogued since Jane's kidnapping was reported on the news. She's unaware of Abbott approaching until he places his hand on her shoulder, making her jump. She looks up at him.

"I think we may have a live one, come to my office."

He sees Cho and Wiley looking his way and nods to them.

"You too."

As they make their way to his office he fills them in on what he know so far.

"A call came through from a psychiatrist in California, she says she used to work in Meadowbrook Recovery Center where Jane once was a patient."

Lisbon nods her head.

"Yes, after finding his wife and child butchered, he spent some time there."

Cho mumbles under his breath.

"So would any man."

"She says there was a man there who had a grudge against Jane, and he was recently released. I have a call into her and she should be on the line."

Kim is there as they enter the office.

"I have her sir."

Abbott moves around to his chair and invites Lisbon to sit there, she at first refuses but he insists. Abbott and Kim stand at her shoulders and Cho and Wiley take the other seats. The woman is on the screen waiting. Abbott speaks up.

"Doctor Pattison, we are grateful for your time. Can you tell us more about this patient?"

The woman on screen looks in late fifties, maybe sixties, stylishly dressed in a skirt and jacket suit, medium grey, with a white shirt underneath. Her light blonde hair, dyed, is in a short but gentle cut that gives her a soft look. When she speaks her voice is pleasant and soothing, and Lisbon feels she's probably very good at getting her patients to open up to her.

"Obviously there's only so much I can tell you about him, only things that are pertinent to Mr. Jane's disappearance."

"We understand Doctor, and appreciate you contacting us."

"Ralph Dennis and Patrick Jane were inpatient's at the same time. Ralph had been with us for a while. He developed a fixation on Mr. Jane, I think he saw him as a sort of celebrity, he'd seen him on TV. Ralph didn't communicate with anyone, he had a favourite chair he would spend his days in. A couple of years after Mr. Jane left, Ralph began to talk about his dead wife, he was never married. He gave her the name of Angela. As we delved in to it he said that she'd been murdered by a man who left a painted face on her wall. Eventually he described her attacker, and then he gave that attacker a name, Patrick Jane.

That's when I was brought in on the case because I'd supervised Mr. Jane's treatment. Of course I recognized the similarities straight away. Ralph began to talk of revenge, he talked of the things he would do to his wife's murderer, they were not pleasant."

Abbott interrupts.

"Surely the man is still hospitalized?"

"I left Meadowbrook three years ago. I called a former colleague a few hours ago and he told me that Ralph Dennis was released three months ago. I felt it was too much of a coincidence and should give you a call."

"Thank you Doctor Pattison, you've been very helpful, we will look in to it straight away."

Abbott looks at Wiley as he's speaking and he gets up and leaves the room with a nod.

"You're welcome and I hope I'm wrong, for Mr. Jane's sake."

The call ends, there's silence in the room. Lisbon's the first to speak.

"Jane's in the hands of a psychopathic version of himself."

She looks up at Abbott her eyes full of anguish.

"We need to find him boss, now!"


	7. Chapter 7

Jane awakes to an explosion of pain and a piercing scream. Tears fill his eyes as he struggles for control, his body is in excruciating pain, he throws his head back trying to escape it. He's gasping, fighting for each breath that his distress denies him. He bows his head, closing his eyes and blows through his mouth, a loud, insistent voice in his head telling him to calm, to gain control. Slowly the pain becomes more controllable. As the blood rushing in his ears calms he can hear laughter. He opens his eyes and looks up at his captor, who bends down and gets close in to Jane's face, he rears back as far as he can. The man has a cruel smile on his lips.

"Wakey, wakey. I hope you enjoyed your nap. It'll be your last. Did you like my wake up call?"

Jane grits his teeth and shakes his head. With the passing of time, the pain is settling on the left upper side of his body.

"Really? Grown tired of the nail gun have you. Then perhaps something else in my repertoire will please you."

The man reaches out and touches Jane at the source of the pain. Jane can now identify it as his collar-bone. The man runs his finger along it, almost as a caress.

"The nail has shattered the collar-bone, just here below your shoulder. I imagine it's very painful, especially with your arms held back behind the chair."

Jane feels sickened at the man's touch and swallows the bile that threatens, fighting down the urge to throw up.

The man moves away and sits down on his chair.

"Today I'm through toying with you, the real work begins. You will live this day in agony, and the next and maybe the next, I haven't quite decided when I will kill you. I guess it depends on how much amusement you give me."

Jane watches as the man places the nail gun on the floor and picks up the drill that's lain there all night. Fear takes a tight hold of his stomach. Panic threatens to rid him of his senses, he has to fight hard to remember the plan he formulated.

"What was she like...your wife?"

His captor looks up from the drill he'd been inspecting.

"My wife?"

Jane nods, then wishes he hadn't, as it sends a pain shooting through his body. He struggles to stop himself from crying out. He watches the man carefully, knowing his future depends on his reaction to the question. He feels some hope as there's no tension in the man, he watches him look down at the drill and softly stroke it. Jane ventures words to encourage him to speak.

"You obviously loved her very much, she must have been a wonderful person."

His captor looks up at him, his eyes shine with unshed tears.

"She was beautiful. She lived down the street when I was growing up. We travelled on the same bus to school. She was always so kind to me. Many of the kids at school were mean and nasty, but not her. She would smile at me and sometimes would sit next to me on the bus."

Jane grits his teeth and nods encouragingly, successfully hiding the pain it caused him.

"She was an Angel. Such a beautiful smile, it made people feel warm inside. Every day was better when I saw that smile. Her eyes would crinkle up and they were kind and I knew she wasn't laughing at me. She never laughed at me.

Cho pulls the vehicle to a stop, a couple of houses down from their intended target. It's a rundown neighbourhood, and the house they want is run down more than most. He joins Abbott and Lisbon who parked behind him, they're in conversation with the leader of the swat team they brought along. Abbott is barking out orders.

"Cho, around the back, Kim, you come behind us and head down the basement. Lisbon and I will take the front and then upstairs."

"Boss I want the basement, if Jane's here that's where he'll be."

"Just follow my orders agent. Let's go!"

Jane's fighting hard to keep his concentration, any movement, even breathing, is causing terrible pain. His captor's stopped talking, and is lost in thought. Jane needs to bring him back.

"Where did you go on your first date?"

The man snaps back and looks almost surprised to see him.

"What?"

"After loving her for so long from afar, your first date must have been a special occasion, where did you go?"

Jane attempts a smile, causing all sorts of pain in his face.

"I bet it was somewhere special. You got all dressed up."

His captor nods his head.

"Yes, my best suit. I knew roses were her favourite flowers so I bought some pink ones, she always wore pink. I spent the afternoon washing my car, polished it up real good. It sparkled."

"Of course, nothing but the best for your first date. Sounds like you did everything right."

Lisbon hears every room being declared clear through her ear plug, as she did the same in the hallway, stairs, bathroom and bedrooms. Her heart sinks as she hears the same thing from Kim, he's not here.

Wiley sits down at the small kitchen table, there's a laptop laying there closed. He lifts up the lid and it springs to life when he touches the pad. He smiles to himself when there's no password, As he searches the items on the desktop screen he notices a camera logo, it says it's active. He clicks it on and a picture appears sending his blood cold.

She walks slowly down the stairs, Cho appears and the look on his face sends her stomach plummeting.

"Wiley's found something."

Jane wants, needs, to shift position, his muscles are screaming at him, but he knows it won't bring relief. For one, his movement's so severely restricted that his muscles wouldn't register it and his collar bone would protest painfully. He wants to forget all about control, and let out a loud, guttural scream that would express his pain, his anger, his frustration, his humiliation, his desperation. Instead he looks his captor in the eye and says:

"I bet she looked amazing when she answered the door."

His captor shakes his head but a wistful smile plays on his lips.

"I didn't pick her up from her house. I had free period on Thursday afternoons, it gave me time to get everything ready and then I picked her up after her debate class. She was standing at the bus stop, in her jeans and delicate pink blouse, so soft it laid gently on her form, just showing the promise of her perfect curves beneath, and I felt excitement within me knowing she was waiting just for me."

Abbott and Lisbon follow Cho into the kitchen, it's a mess, Lisbon resists the temptation to hold her nose at the smell of rancid food attacks her nostrils. Wiley's sits at a small kitchen table, a laptop open in front of him. Abbott addresses him:

"What have you found Wiley?"

Wiley looks up, his face a little green, his eyes, full of concern and horror, the same look she'd seen on Cho's face.

"Jane."


	8. Chapter 8

"Where?"

Wiley pointed to the screen.

"Right here sir."

Lisbon pushes past Abbott, Cho steps in front of her, blocking the way.

"Don't stop me Cho."

Cho places his hand on her arm.

"I'm not stopping you, but he's in a bad way, you need to prepare yourself."

There's just one thing she wants to know.

"He's alive?"

Cho nods and she feels a rush of relief.

"I can handle anything else Cho."

Cho studies her for a moment and then lets her pass. Abbott's gone around the opposite way and is looking at the computer, he puts his hand on Wiley.

"Let's give Lisbon some privacy."

Wiley gets up and Abbott leads Cho and Wiley out of the kitchen as Lisbon takes Wiley's place.

The camera is set so she's looking almost straight at Jane, there's enough angle so Ralph Dennis is not blocking her view. She gasps at the sight of him. The swelling on his face makes him barely recognisable, if it wasn't for his hair, which she's surprised to see is wet, she then notices how clean he is, except for some blood dripping from just below his shoulder, there also something else there that she can't quite work out. There's bruising across his chest and right side, she guesses he's been kicked. Her heart breaks at his nakedness, no one else is going to see him like this. He's already been through enough humiliation. There's something in his thighs. Her eyes carry back to his face. His lips are moving, he looks calm but she can see nervousness and terror in his eyes and above all pain, it's etched in every feature and gesture. He nods his head and agony sweeps across his face. She reaches out in an effort to offer comfort. She murmurs:

"Hold on, we're almost there."

The faces in the hallway look grim. The battered image of their colleague, friend, in the forefront of their mind. Wiley speaks first.

"D..D..Did you see what the guy had in his hand boss?"

Abbott answers tight-lipped, unable to meet his eyes:

"Yes, yes I did."

"He's already used a nail gun on him."

"Are you sure?"

Wiley nods his face turning greener at the images that spring into his head.

"There's one on the floor and I could see nails in his thighs and on his shoulder, there could be more."

Abbott looks to the ceiling and lets out a deep sigh.

"We have to find him. Any ideas?"

Cho speaks up:

"It looks like he's being held in a cabin, the walls are logs, it's not very big and very basic. Not a tourist cabin, but one more functional, probably deep in some woods somewhere.

"Making it harder to find. So where to start?"

Abbott looks at Wiley.

"Search for any sign of him owning a cabin, or his family, or a neighbour, anyone he could've had contact with."

"Yes sir, but chances are it's abandoned.."

"Look for those too."

He turns to Cho.

"Do we know what he's driving? He must have got there somehow. Do we have a bolo out for it?"

"Yes, there's a state-wide alert."

Abbot gestures towards the kitchen door.

"Let's go back in."

Lisbon's staring at the screen, she raises her tear-stained face to the men as they enter. Her voice is shaky but her eyes are determined.

"We need to find him."

"We will, the best way is through his car and we have every cop looking for it."

She nods her head. She looks back at the screen.

"I don't want anyone else seeing this, just us. No-one else."

This time Abbott nods in understanding.

"No one will Teresa."

Cho's phone starts ringing.

Jane sees that his captor's not really with him in the cabin anymore, but reliving the moment as if he's there now. Jane knows he has to keep this going, he can't resist looking down at the drill, just making sure it's still hanging loosely by his side, almost forgotten about.

"She must have been pleased to see you."

"Yes she's smiling at me. She has one of those smiles that lights the world, but she smiles for me, lights my world. I know I can be someone, be a better person. When she climbs in we head out of town, up into the forests, I have a surprise for her. My hands are shaking with the anticipation, she's going to love it."

Jane suddenly understands, he knows how the story will end, he's not sure what it means for him but he has no choice.

"What a wonderful idea, who can resist the beauty and the peace of the forest."

"It's beautiful. Spring's in full bloom. It has rained the day before and the scent of the flowers fills the air. It's full of chirping birds, squirrels and chipmunks enjoying the end of the winter hibernation. I love the woods, as you walk deeper the trees swallow you and you feel so alone. Angela and I wanted to be alone."

Jane changes to present tense following his captors lead.

"It's easier for love to blossom in such beautiful surroundings, Angela must be very grateful"

Everyone's attention turns to Cho as he answers:

"Where….Got it."

He closes the phone.

"They've found his car, at Texas Hill Country at Uvalde"

"We're, what, an hour and fifteen minutes away?"

Cho nods.

Abbott turns to Wiley, who, already has his tablet out.

"See if you can find the cabin."

"Already on it boss."

"Also, I need you to stay here and watch Jane. Keep us appraised with what's happening."

"Yes boss."

Lisbon is out of her chair, and gives Jane one last look.

"No one else sees him Wiley."

"I'll make sure."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here Teresa?"

She looks determinedly at Abbott.

"There's nothing I can do for him here."

Lisbon, Abbott and Cho head to the car.

"Did you take her to a cabin?"

"It's too damp to have a picnic on the grass, owing to the rain, and Mr. Robertson has a cabin he lets us use. Angela doesn't come to the woods very often and she's never been this deep in. It's growing darker because of the thickness of the trees, they're so close together now. She's getting scared, but I tell it's all right. She's with me and I won't let anything harm her. She's a little resistant at first, but when I take her hand she follows."


	9. Chapter 9

Jane watches his captor closely, the time tied to the chair has numbed his feet and hands, his limbs feel like they're on fire with every little movement he makes, but to stay still brings agony of a different kind. Not the ideal situation for leading this dance, but he has no choice, it's a long shot but it's the only one he has.

"I bet you have a way to relax her?"

His captor looks at him, Jane's not sure if he sees him or not, and he smiles.

"Yes, some beers in the fridge, I open the bottle and she happily takes it. She throws her head back and drinks, I can see her long, slender, throat, golden in colour, moving as she swallows. She pulls the bottle away and drops of liquid rest on her beautiful soft lips."

"I bet it's hard to resist"

"Yes, it aches inside of me, but then her tongue comes out and licks them off and that's even better."

Jane grits his teeth and nods, it's important that he's goes along with him.

They pull to a stop and pile out of the car. They've stayed in constant contact with Wiley and Lisbon's relieved to hear that Jane and Dennis are still having a conversation, more importantly the drill is still hung loosely at the monster's side. Lisbon's certain that this conversation is Jane's doing, stalling Dennis, Lisbon prays that it continues to work.

A local cop introduces himself as Patrolman Carrigan. He found the car, and after calling it in, he's kept guard over it, making sure no one touched until their arrival. Abbott thanks the man and they descend on the car. It's a big beat up Olds, there's as much metal on display as there is black paint. They peer through the windows and see a mess, not unexpected after the state of his house. Abbott's phone chirrups, he pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the display.

"The warrant."

He listens and then nods his head at the agents. Lisbon takes the driver's side, Cho the trunk. The doors are locked. Lisbon looks around and picks up a large rock, she throws it at the door window. It leaves a gaping hole in its wake, she uses another rock to knock away the shards so she can safely put her hand through to unlock the door. Abbott hands her a piece of cardboard he found in the trash to wipe the glass off the seat. She feels the little slivers left behind as she sits down. Abbot reaches around and unlocks the back door. As he straightens up Cho calls from the back.

"Boss, come look."

Lisbon and Abbott rush to the back of the car. Cho has the trunk open. As they move next to him Cho reaches in and picks something off the stained carpet. He turns and holds it up to the sunlight, where it glistens, or more accurately, they glisten: strands of curly blond hair.

"Jane was in this car."

Jane's weary! He doesn't think he's ever been this tired. It's infusing itself in every muscle, the hairs on his body seem to weigh him down. He's resorting to moving, increasing his pain level, to keep himself conscious and focused.

"It sounds like the two of you are having fun?"

"She's looking at me with those beautiful inviting eyes, my groundwork is paying off, it's time to make my move."

"Good luck."

"Why are you resisting, you want me, you know you do."

His captors face is getting red and frustration is written all over it.

"What are you going to do about it?"

His voice rises in volume.

"You want me to let you go? You want me to not hold your wrist so tight. I'm hurting you am I? What do you think you're doing to me? Leading me on and then telling me that it's not what you want…that I'm not good enough for you!

"You seem angry."

Jane doubts he's even heard anymore.

"You're going to lie down there and give me what you promised me."

Jane wishes he could switch off. Images of the girl's struggle play in his mind. He doesn't want to picture the ending.

"There, now wasn't that nice."

Jane watches him wipe imaginary spittle off his face, it seems to wake him from his past and he sees Jane once more.

Abbott hangs up the phone.

"The cabin is four miles in to the woods from here. It will take us too long to get there. A swat team is on its way. They will pick us up here and Wiley has spotted a clearing nearer the cabin that will handle a helicopter landing."

Lisbon only has one question.

"How's Jane?"

"He's holding his own, they're still talking, though Dennis is getting more agitated."

Lisbon's leaning against the entrance gate to the woods, lost in her thoughts – one thought. Jane in the chair, battered, bruised and unrecognisable. She has to hold on to the hope that they'll make it in time. She doesn't like the report Abbott gave her, it fills her with fear and foreboding. But she's grateful he hasn't hid anything from her.

"Mr. Jane you tricked me. You hypnotised me, I've read about your skills."

Jane swallows the bile that threatens as he hears the drill start up.

"No, no, I just asked you questions, I didn't change the reality. You killed Angela, I didn't. She was never your wife, she's a girl you lusted after in high school. You took her to a cabin, like this one and raped her and killed her."

Jane looks in to his captors raging eyes and forces himself not to look away. The man's face turns in to a snarling grimace of a smile.

"I'm going to keep you alive for a very long time, Mr Jane. You're going to beg me to kill you, and then three days later I may."

In mid-air Abbott's phone rings again, Lisbon watches his face as it turns stoic. He avoids Lisbon's eyes and taps the shoulder of the co-pilot. Lisbon can't hear him as he instructs the pilot to get them there now!

"Have you wondered Mr. Jane what it felt like?"

Jane looks at his captor, at the drill and then back to his captor.

"You have no reason to do this? You're the one who killed Angela."

Suddenly the man has Jane by the throat, squeezing hard. As Jane's struggling for breath he feels the drill against the side of his head.

"I asked you a question Mr. Jane. I don't want to hear any more of your lies. You killed Angela and you're going to pay."

Jane's trying hard to quell the panic threatening to overtake him. He feels the pressure on his air way lessen.

"Now Mr. Jane, have you wondered what it felt like?"

Jane's voice comes out weak.

"That what felt like?"

His captor nods his head and smiles like a pleased teacher.

"That's better."

He moves around to the back of Jane, who follows him with his head as far as he can, but he soon out of his eye line. Having him out of sight turns up his fear.

He hears his captor's voice and Jane surmises that he's kneeling down behind him.

"How it felt Mr. Jane to have nails driven in to his wrists. It must be very painful and he was very brave. Are you brave Mr Jane?"

Jane feels him grab his arm just above the bar that encloses his wrists. His efforts of struggle are useless with the same bar allowing limited movement. It's only successful in causing pain at his collar-bone. He groans in agony.

"Don't be alarmed with the sound of the drill. I'm just making a hole through the bar."

Jane feels sick as the drill starts and he can only hope that he's been told the truth. He holds his arms as still as possible to prevent any accidents. He feels the moment the drill is through the bar, he feels it touch his skin but it's then pulled away. It starts again on the other side.

"Excellent Mr. Jane."

His captor moves back in to his eye line just to pick up the nail gun before retreating behind him. As he feels a hand on his arm he barely has time to prepare himself when an excruciating pain shoots through his right arm. He throws his head back and bites hard to stop himself from screaming. A few seconds later the same pain shoots through his left arm. He lets out an expletive. He hears his captor laugh.

"Well done Mr. Jane."

Jane can barely think through the pain. He's aware that his captor's now in front of him, he feels something cold against his cheek and a voice in his ear.

"Time for the drill, I will start slow, not too much damage, after all I want to keep you alive for a while."

Jane shakes his head, telling him no. He feels the drill against his right side, it starts up and he screams as it tears his skin. The drill is withdrawn and Jane pants against the pain, but his relief is momentary as he feels the drill against his skin once more. He looks at his torturer and finds him looking directly at him, a manic smile on his face as the drill's moved away and placed in a different spot. He feels himself losing consciousness and has no desire to fight it. Suddenly he jumps when there's an almighty crash.

As Lisbon kicks open the door and jumps out the way Cho follows in immediately, his orders firmly in his mind. As Lisbon positioned herself, Abbott spoke to him in a low voice.

"He's standing in front of Jane, who's back is to the door, you remember from the camera feed?"

Cho nods his head, as if he'll ever forget the horrific sight.

"Take Dennis out as soon as you enter the door, no hesitation, he's working the drill on Jane, at the moment it's superficial Wiley says, whatever that means…

Cho feels sick and glances at Lisbon, who looks questioningly at him.

" We can't give him the opportunity to do worse. Wiley's telling me when it's a good time, we don't want the drill causing more damage because of us."

Abbott checks with the paramedics behind him.

"We'll let you in as soon as it's safe."

Cho plants himself as Ralph Dennis looks up, startled by the noise, a bullet throws him backwards to the floor. Cho makes his way to Dennis with his gun still trained on him, Abbott moves in around the other side of Jane, but he's not moving. It's apparent the man's dead, but Cho kicks away the nail gun and checks for a pulse. As Abbott and Cho surrounded Dennis, Lisbon rushed to Jane. His reaction to the crashing of the door sent agony coursing through his body, Lisbon has to stay behind him but takes his head in her hands, stroking his face as she whispers in his ear.

"We're here Patrick, you're all right now, you're safe."

Jane's barely conscious, or capable of understanding what's going on, but the kindness of her touch registers somewhere in his mind and a picture of Teresa is in front of his eyes and her name on his lips as he blacks out.

Abbott gives the word to the paramedics as soon as death's established. One goes to Jane and the other confirms the diagnosis on Dennis and then joins his partner, who's starting a central line in Jane's neck, he works on stemming the blood dripping from his body. Abbott and Cho work on freeing him from the chair. Abbott using the drill, laying at Jane's feet, to release him from the ring, Cho finds a knife in the kitchen area and hacks away at the duct tape. As Lisbon peels it off, leaving raw inflamed skin behind, she's thankful that Jane's out of it. The paramedic adds a little something to keep him that way.

When Lisbon peels the tape from his shoulders she almost loses it at the sight of all the nails embedded in his body, red and angry welts surrounding them. Abbott searches the dead body and successfully finds the key to unlock the padlocks holding the bars on Jane's ankles and wrists. Once his freed from them everyone helps lower him on to the gurney the paramedics bring in. They wrap him in a foil blanket, and rush him to the waiting helicopter with his colleagues following. Lisbon enters the helicopter with him, Abbott and Cho stay behind to handle the crime scene. They return to the cabin, slowing the closer they get. Without words they sit down on a nearby fallen tree, each one unwilling to enter the torture chamber.

Wiley closes the laptop and throws up in the sink, wishing the images in his head were as easy to get rid of.


	10. Chapter 10

"Have you wondered Mr. Jane what it felt like?"

Jane looks at his captor, at the drill and then back to his captor.

"You have no reason to do this? You're the one who killed Angela."

Suddenly the man has Jane by the throat, squeezing hard. As Jane's struggling for breath he feels the drill against the side of his head.

"I asked you a question Mr. Jane. I don't want to hear any more of your lies. You killed Angela and you're going to pay."

Jane's trying hard to quell the panic threatening to overtake him. He feels the pressure on his air way lessen.

"Now Mr. Jane, have you wondered what it felt like?"

Jane's voice comes out weak.

"That what felt like?"

His captor nods his head and smiles like a pleased teacher.

"That's better."

He moves around to the back of Jane, who follows him with his head as far as he can, but he soon out of his eye line. Having him out of sight turns up his fear.

He hears his captor's voice and Jane surmises that he's kneeling down behind him.

"How it felt Mr. Jane to have nails driven in to his wrists. It must be very painful and he was very brave. Are you brave Mr Jane?"

Jane feels him grab his arm just above the bar that encloses his wrists. His efforts of struggle are useless with the same bar allowing limited movement. It's only successful in causing pain at his collar-bone. He groans in agony.

"Don't be alarmed with the sound of the drill. I'm just making a hole through the bar."

Jane feels sick as the drill starts and he can only hope that he's been told the truth. He holds his arms as still as possible to prevent any accidents. He feels the moment the drill is through the bar, he feels it touch his skin but it's then pulled away. It starts again on the other side.

"Excellent Mr. Jane."

His captor moves back in to his eye line just to pick up the nail gun before retreating behind him. As he feels a hand on his arm he barely has time to prepare himself when an excruciating pain shoots through his right arm. He throws his head back and bites hard to stop himself from screaming. A few seconds later the same pain shoots through his left arm. He lets out an expletive. He hears his captor laugh.

"Well done Mr. Jane."

Jane can barely think through the pain. He's aware that his captor's now in front of him, he feels something cold against his cheek and a voice in his ear.

"Time for the drill, I will start slow, not too much damage, after all I want to keep you alive for a while."

Jane shakes his head, telling him no. He feels the drill against his right side, it starts up and he screams as it tears his skin. The drill is withdrawn and Jane pants against the pain, but his relief is momentary as he feels the drill against his skin once more. He looks at his torturer and finds him looking directly at him, a manic smile on his face as the drill's moved away and placed in a different spot. He feels himself losing consciousness and has no desire to fight it. Suddenly he jumps when there's an almighty crash.

As Lisbon kicks open the door and jumps out the way Cho follows in immediately, his orders firmly in his mind. As Lisbon positioned herself, Abbott spoke to him in a low voice.

"He's standing in front of Jane, who's back is to the door, you remember from the camera feed?"

Cho nods his head, as if he'll ever forget the horrific sight.

"Take Dennis out as soon as you enter the door, no hesitation, he's working the drill on Jane, at the moment it's superficial Wiley says, whatever that means…

Cho feels sick and glances at Lisbon, who looks questioningly at him.

" We can't give him the opportunity to do worse. Wiley's telling me when it's a good time, we don't want the drill causing more damage because of us."

Abbott checks with the paramedics behind him.

"We'll let you in as soon as it's safe."

Cho plants himself as Ralph Dennis looks up, startled by the noise, a bullet throws him backwards to the floor. Cho makes his way to Dennis with his gun still trained on him, Abbott moves in around the other side of Jane, but he's not moving. It's apparent the man's dead, but Cho kicks away the nail gun and checks for a pulse. As Abbott and Cho surrounded Dennis, Lisbon rushed to Jane. His reaction to the crashing of the door sent agony coursing through his body, Lisbon has to stay behind him but takes his head in her hands, stroking his face as she whispers in his ear.

"We're here Patrick, you're all right now, you're safe."

Jane's barely conscious, or capable of understanding what's going on, but the kindness of her touch registers somewhere in his mind and a picture of Teresa is in front of his eyes and her name on his lips as he blacks out.

Abbott gives the word to the paramedics as soon as death's established. One goes to Jane and the other confirms the diagnosis on Dennis and then joins his partner, who's starting a central line in Jane's neck, he works on stemming the blood dripping from his body. Abbott and Cho work on freeing him from the chair. Abbott using the drill, laying at Jane's feet, to release him from the ring, Cho finds a knife in the kitchen area and hacks away at the duct tape. As Lisbon peels it off, leaving raw inflamed skin behind, she's thankful that Jane's out of it. The paramedic adds a little something to keep him that way.

When Lisbon starts to peel the tape from his shoulders she almost loses it at the sight of all the nails embedded in his body, red and angry welts surrounding them. Abbott searches the dead body and successfully finds the key to unlock the padlocks holding the bars on Jane's ankles and wrists. Once his freed from them everyone helps lower him on to the gurney the paramedics bring in. They wrap him in a foil blanket, and rush him to the waiting helicopter with his colleagues following. Lisbon enters the helicopter with him, Abbott and Cho stay behind to handle the crime scene. They return to the cabin, slowing the closer they get. Without words they sit down on a nearby fallen tree, each one unwilling to enter the torture chamber.

Wiley closes the laptop and throws up in the sink, wishing the images in his head were as easy to get rid of.


	11. Chapter 11

After hours of waiting Lisbon's finally allowed to see Jane. She's led to a private room not far from the nurse's station.

"He's heavily sedated and will be asleep for a long time, my advice would be to stay just a few minutes and then go home and get some rest. You'll be more use to him well rested."

Lisbon thanks the nurse and as the nurse walks away Lisbon opens the door to Jane's room. The doctor's report was very encouraging. There was nothing life threatening. He needs skin grafts where the drill has made mincemeat of his flesh but his condition was too weak for them to risk the surgery now, he'd already been in surgery for three hours as they removed the nails and repaired his collar-bone. A little repair was also needed in a part of the shoulder where three nails were driven in the same spot. They'd had to dig to get the last one out. He also has a couple of broken ribs, and his cheekbone and nose are broken. It all adds up to a few months of painful recovery time, and then there's his mental recovery, there's no way to predict that.

He's lying on his back, a cannulae in his nose, the swelling on his face has reduced just a little. She know his left arm's strapped to his chest to help his collar-bone, his right hand is laying on the bedcover, his wrist heavily bandaged. She moves to his bed and takes hold of his hand, bringing it up to her mouth and kissing it. Small gentle kisses all over the back of his hand and then she turns it over and kisses his palm. It feels so good to hold him, she wants to climb up on the bed with him and hold him properly but she knows that has to wait. She contents herself with being near him, watching him breathe, feeling his hand in hers.

She awakens with a start as the door opens, she didn't realise she'd fallen asleep. It's a nurse to record his vitals. After she's finished the nurse looks to her.

"He's doing very well, you ought to go home and get some rest, the doctor's not having him wake up until at least tomorrow lunch time."

"I will, I just want to stay a little bit longer."

Every nurse charged with his care, knows what happened to Jane and she looks at Lisbon full of understanding.

"I know it's hard to leave him, now you have him back. I can get you a cot if you'd like and you can sleep in here with him."

Lisbon, can hardly believe her ears and grabs at the offer.

As she waits for the cot, the door opens and Cho's standing there, much to Lisbon's pleasure.

"Can we come in?"

"Of course."

Following Cho is Abbott, Fischer, and Wiley. Wiley's still looking a little green around the edges. Each one is lost in their thoughts as they look at their sleeping colleague, each one still dealing with the pictures in their heads and trying to replace them with the peaceful picture before them. Lisbon catches them up with his condition and prognosis. They only stay a few minutes longer, they hug Lisbon, squeeze Jane's hand and say a few words of encouragement before leaving. Wiley is the last to leave, he's holding Jane's hand staring down at him. Lisbon touches his shoulder.

Wiley looks at her and Lisbon's shocked by the depth of the anguish in his face.

"I never felt more useless than I did today. Watching Jane being abused like that and all I could do was watch. I wanted to reach into the computer and grab that drill right out of his hand. Fischer had to restrain me from shooting him through the screen."

"It was a difficult assignment Abbott gave you today. You did it well, you saved his life. Without your information Jane might be dead now."

"That's what the boss said, but it doesn't take the images away."

"When Jane discovers we've all seen him naked, he'll sneakily hypnotize us anyway to make us forget."

Wiley laughs.

"No sneaking required on my account."

Lisbon makes a note to talk to Jane about it. As part of his growth as an agent it's not wise for him to forget all he's seen, but maybe Jane can help him cope.

"She sleeps like a log, barely waking up when nurses come to check on him. The days he was gone catching up on her. At six the first signs of light are beginning to make their presence known as she climbs off the cot and stretches. A nurse enters.

"Would you like a shower and I've ordered you breakfast."

"I would love a shower, thank you."

"The doctor will be in shortly."

"Perhaps I'll wait until he's been."

The nurse shakes her head.

"You have time for the shower, it'll just get busier later."

When Lisbon returns the cot is gone and she sits back down on the chair taking a long look at Jane. He looks better this morning, the part of the face she can see isn't as pale and the cheek isn't as hollow. The bruise is darker but the she swears the swelling's gone down a little. She turns as the door opens once more and the doctor walks through, with the nurse following.

He smiles a hello and opens Jane's chart. He moves to the side of the bed and the nurse takes the other. Together they pull down the covers revealing Jane's body. The left arm's secured to his body with bandages to prevent it moving, there are dressings covering the injuries caused by the drill, each one has blood showing through. The doctor checks them and instructs the nurse to change the dressings. They pull the covers up from the bottom of the bed and the doctor checks his work on the injuries to his thighs. Lisbon appreciates them preserving his dignity even though he's asleep.

The doctor then looks towards Lisbon.

"Could you help lift him up so I can check the dressings and stitches on his shoulders?"

Lisbon jumps out the chair and follows the instructions of the nurse. She holds Jane's head so it doesn't flop backwards. After the doctors finished and Jane's laying back down and he inspects his wrists. When he's done he pulls up a chair and sits down next to Lisbon, while the nurse sorts out Jane's bed.

"He's doing very well. His vitals are stronger, his readouts are better. I'm confident to schedule him for more surgery tomorrow to do the skin grafts, as you can see they're still bleeding so need to be dealt with as soon as possible. I'm withdrawing my prescription of the drug keeping him asleep, so he should wake up some time this morning and we'll see how he copes. If he's too distressed I will put him back to sleep again. I don't want him damaging my repairs. The nurses will call me as soon as it happens."

"Thank you doctor."

"You're welcome."

He gives her a smile and is on his way. She stands next to the bed and takes his hand. She knows that time's going to go very slowly as she waits for the effect of the drugs to wear off.

It's the evening, Jane woke up at 11 but remained sleepy for most of the afternoon. They spoke only few words to each other before Jane was back to sleep, but now he's more awake. She helped him to a sitting position and he's tightly holding on to her hand.

"There's no reason to blame yourself."

"I'm not.."

He interrupts her blustering.

"Yes you are, you blame yourself for not finding me sooner, for not protecting me. But there's nothing you could have done to stop him getting me. I was in the airstream having a drink and doing a Sudoku, when suddenly, glass was flying all over the place. I ducked to protect myself but then the room began to fill with gas and I was overcome before I could get to my feet. The next thing I knew I woke up in the cabin alone, chained to the floor."

He looks down at Lisbon rubbing his hand.

"You were there to comfort me. Thinking of you took me away from the hell I was in and gave me the courage to fight for my survival."

His tone is gentle:

"Thank you for that. What was his name? It's funny I never asked him."

"Ralph Dennis, he was.."

"A fellow patient, I remember him, he would sit in a chair all day, he barely looked at me."

Jane's eyes are full of pain.

"You don't have to talk about it? Not yet anyway."

"I know."

A wry smile covers half his face.

"It poetic don't you think that I get tortured by a man who thinks I killed his wife, she was even called Angela, except she wasn't his wife and I didn't kill her."

"He's never been married."

"She was a girl he was infatuated with in high school and he took her to a cabin and raped and killed her."

She looks at him a little surprised and he shrugs.

"He told me as I executed a plan that I hoped would set me free but only got him angry."

"That tends to happen, you ought to give up on those plans."

They both share a smile. Then she's serious.

"It wasn't poetic Patrick. You didn't torture Red John, in the end."

"No I didn't, I changed my mind on that one, killing him was enough."

She's totally surprised now.

"You changed your mind? Why? I thought you just didn't have the opportunity."

He looks at her with eyes so full of love it almost takes her breath away. His smile is warm and gentle.

"You don't know? It was you. You made me into a better person."

She looks at him dumbfounded and in shock. A wicked gleam enter his eyes.

"And I'll never forgive you for it."


End file.
